The Falling Detective Read Free

short and narrow, leading into a larger living room, passing a kitchen and the half-open door to the parents’ bedroom on the way. I stand by the large Christmas star glowing on the windowsill, clear and red.
    â€˜What has he seen?’ she asks.
    â€˜When you saw me down there, John, when we waved to each other — you were here, weren’t you, standing by this window?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜What is it that he’s seen?’
    Amanda walks over and looks down to the yard below, gasps, and puts her hand to her mouth.
    â€˜Oh my God.’
    She asks John if he’s okay, if he can really talk to me.
    â€˜Yes, I can.’
    â€˜Okay, I’ll just …’ She composes herself. ‘I’ll put the kettle on, I think. Would you like some tea, John?’
    He shrugs. She walks away, unsteady.
    I put my hands on my thighs and crouch down to see the world down there, as he must have seen it. Even from here you get a good view of the yard, where Mauritzon is in the process of carefully removing the dead man’s shoes.
    More people are now moving around close to the body — and judging by Mauritzon’s body language, this has done nothing for her mood.
    â€˜You smell,’ the boy says.
    â€˜Do I?’
    â€˜You smell of sick.’
    â€˜It’s my coat. We policemen meet a lot of people who are sick, and you don’t always manage to get out of the way in time.’
    â€˜But your eyes?’ The boy squints, suspicious. ‘They’re red.’
    â€˜I haven’t slept for a long time.’
    John contemplates the truth of this statement before apparently letting it go.
    â€˜Someone is lying down, down there.’
    â€˜Yes.’ I straighten up again. ‘Yes, that’s right.’
    â€˜He’s dead, isn’t he?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    I look for something to sit on, and find a large leather armchair next to a low glass table. I perch on one of the wide armrests, and at that moment John coughs — a violent, hoarse cough. His lungs gurgle like a blocked drain, and he grimaces with pain, and goes red in the face.
    Amanda seems to have forgotten why she went out to the kitchen, or else she changed her mind on the way. She returns with a glass of water, puts it on the table, and sits on the sofa, pulling a blanket over her legs.
    â€˜I would like to be present.’
    â€˜Oh, naturally.’ I look over at the window. ‘You saw me down there, John. That’s right, isn’t it?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜How long were you standing there?’
    The boy folds his arms.
    â€˜A while. Not that long.’
    â€˜Can you tell me what you saw when you came to the window? What was happening down there?’
    â€˜Nothing.’
    â€˜There was no one there?’
    He shakes his head.
    â€˜But then someone came.’
    â€˜When?’
    John coughs again, but not as violently this time.
    â€˜You’re asking me to tell the time, but I haven’t learnt that yet.’
    â€˜That’s right. I’m asking about time.’ I hesitate. ‘Don’t worry about it. Who came into the backyard?’
    â€˜A guy. The one who’s lying there now.’
    â€˜How do you know it was him?’
    â€˜Because that’s what I think.’
    I stifle a tut. Kids.
    â€˜Was he alone?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜Then what happened?’ I ask.
    â€˜I don’t really know. I had to go to the toilet, and when I came back he was lying where he is now.’
    â€˜Was he still alone?’
    â€˜No. Someone was standing next to him, looking in his bag.’
    â€˜Can you describe what he looked like?’
    John pauses.
    â€˜Black clothes.’
    â€˜Was he tall or short?’
    John looks me up and down.
    â€˜About the same as you.’
    â€˜What colour was his hair? Could you see?’
    â€˜No, he had a hat.’
    â€˜Did he have a hat you can pull down over your face?’
    This